Definitely Not the End of the World
by melmelforlife
Summary: Typical James, always trying to save the day; atypical Lily, letting her feelings get the best of her. My take on how in the world they ended up together.


"James."

"James."

"James?"

"_**James**_**!**"

The voice that persistently called his name, coupled with a few forceful shakes of his shoulders, were the last things James Potter currently wanted to be aware of. He _had_ been in the throes of a most wonderful dream, a dream that had included the one and only Lily Evans. _His_ Lily Evans. The girl of his, well, _dreams_. Inwardly spouting curses at the person who dared to interrupt his slumber, he pried one eyelid open and glanced around futily. The room around him was a blur, as always, and he groped groggily for his glasses, nearly knocking them off the nightstand in the process. A quiet chuckle sounded from somewhere around the end of his bed, and he flashed a rather rude hand signal in the general direction of his feet, which only served to produce more laughter.

"Prongsie, old pal, over the years you've grown even harder to wake up. You're lucky your wake-up call didn't involve the use of any hexes or curses or other such nasty things that only my mind can dream up."

James groaned when he recognized the voice of his best friend.

"Bloody hell, Sirius! What are you doing in my room this early? No, forget that. What are you doing in my room, period? I could have been sleeping starkers and then you'd regret barging in here like a troll."

James rolled over as he spoke, glaring at the black-haired boy that stood in the middle of the room, hands tucked casually in his pockets. He flashed a cheeky grin in reply to James' glare, and shrugged in answer to the questions.

"For starters, I've always had a bit of a soft spot for this room. It's just that it's more fun to be here with a James that's awake and joking as opposed to a James that's still lying in bed, snoring like a drunken house elf."

James turned back to his nightstand and grabbed his clock.

"Bloody _hell_, Sirius! It's not even 9!"

"Your mum said it was high time you rolled your lazy arse out of bed."

James snorted as he flopped back onto his stomach, flipping the covers up over his head dismissively, and burrowed back down in them. Sirius cleared his throat.

"Okay, maybe she didn't use those exact words, but that was the general idea. Besides, if you don't get your hairy bum out of bed, you're going to make us miss the Express."

"_**Bloody hell**_, Sirius!"

James was out of bed so fast he almost bowled Sirius over on his way to the door. Laughter followed James down the hall and into the loo, where he gratefully closed the door on his best friend's cackles.

He couldn't believe he'd forgotten today was September 1st. He swore under his breath, cursing Sirius for waiting so long to wake him up. It wasn't that he wasn't packed and ready to go, he just hadn't planned on having to _rush_.

After a glare at his reflection, James headed back to his room for his shoes and his trunk. Sirius was still standing where James had left him, snorting quietly to himself. The look James shot his direction would have made a lesser person quiver. Sirius just threw him a smile in response as he strode to the doorway, leaned casually against the frame, and watched James attempt to put his shoes on the wrong feet.

"Need some help there, mate?"

"Bugger off. I'm perfectly fine, no thanks to you. Would it have killed you to give me a few more minutes warning?"

Sirius appeared to think for a moment before nodding his head enthusiastically.

"I'm not sure, but I figured it was best not to try. If it _did_ kill me, you'd be short one best mate and then where would you be?"

James grinned evilly.

"_Sleeping_."

An hour later found both boys dragging their trunks across an all-too-familiar platform toward an all-too-familiar train, their faces plastered with identical looks of end-of-holidays gloom. James paused halfway across the platform to shift his grip on the large steamer trunk he dragged behind him, letting out a rather loud sigh at the same time. Sirius looked round at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I don't see Evans," James blurted, scrutinizing the crowd of schoolchildren and parents that surrounded them.

"Maybe she's on the train already." Sirius offered, prodding James in the back with his elbow in an effort to keep him moving.

"Or maybe she finally transferred schools like she threatened all last year." There was a definite note of gloom in James' voice.

"Or maybe she's ill and she won't be there 'til tomorrow."

"Or maybe something bad happened...all those rumors of death eaters..." James paused to shudder.

"Or maybe," said a firm voice from behind them, "she's wondering why there are two bloody idiots blocking the steps."

James' face lit up as he spun around.

"Evans!"

The girl that stood on the platform behind him didn't share his look of excitement.

"Have a good holiday, Potter?" She asked as she brushed past, auburn hair glinting in the light as she moved. She mounted the steps, pausing to throw a rather haughty look back at James. "I expect you're absolutely _thrilled_ to be going back, having to spend the summer without anyone to torture and all."

She disappeared inside the train, leaving the two boys in silence.

"Hey!" said Sirius suddenly, "**I** was at your house this summer!"

James ignored him and sighed again, rather dreamily this time.

"She didn't transfer. She's still here."

Sirius made a gagging noise, pretending to be sick as he started to lug his trunk up the steps.

"Yes James, she's still here. Can we please move on?"

He followed Sirius into the train, and it wasn't long before they found an empty compartment and settled in. James absently ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up more than normal.

"This is the year, Sirius," he declared after a long moment of silence.

Sirius barely glanced over from where he lay on the thickly padded seat, one arm flung over his eyes to block out the light.

"The year you successfully transfigure Snape into a girl?"

James laughed and shook his head, realized Sirius couldn't see it, and continued.

"No mate: it's the year I finally convince Evans to go out with me. I have a pretty good feeling about it this time."

"James, you _always_ have a good feeling about it, and I'd hoped by now you'd realize that your feelings mean absolute _gobshite_ because you're never right. She's never gonna go out with you."

Not to be deterred, James shook his head again.

"No, no, I definitely think this is the year. When you're dancing at our wedding, remind me to tell you that you were wrong."

A snort sounded from beneath Sirius' arm as the door to their compartment slid open with a thud and a pale, thin boy slipped in, hauling a large trunk not unlike the two that were already resting in the luggage rack. A smile appeared when he spotted the other two boys.

"Good to see you found a compartment—it's pretty full out there. Seems like there's a million first years wandering around everywhere; it's hard to move without stepping on them."

"'lo, Remus," Sirius greeted, voice muffled by the arm still firmly held over his face.

"Sleeping already, Padfoot? I would have thought you could wait until we were at least out of the station."

"If anyone's going to sleep it's going to be _me_," said James loudly. "After all, it's Sirius' own fault he was up early this morning. More time to torture me, see, like he didn't get enough of that in during break. Never mind the fact that he's been at my house since the end of last term."

Sirius sat up then and fixed James with a rather stern look.

"Ah yes, but James, if I hadn't woken you up today you would have missed your interlude with the famous Flower."

Remus sat down next to James and raised his eyebrows.

"Lily? Bit early in the term for that, isn't it Prongs?"

James shook his head.

"I'm bound and determined, Moony. Bound and determined. I **will** get Evans to go out with me, even if it's just for one lousy date. It'll happen."

Sirius and Remus shared a look that James missed as he turned his attention to the corridor outside, watching every person that passed anxiously, aching for a glimpse of the one girl that always seemed to disappear when he wanted to see her the most.

September passed in the blink of an eye. Everyone settled into their new schedules for the year, Sirius moaning without end about sharing Double Potions with the Slytherins for yet another year. James couldn't blame him; he felt the same way, but he was positive he could get along sportingly without the constant reminder.

The first of October dawned on a dismal, rainy, grey Monday. James was sitting alone at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, munching idly on a piece of toast when Remus entered, looking paler than ever. He slid onto the bench alongside James, pushing a large plate of kippers further down the table with a strained look on his face.

"You alright, mate?"

Remus shook his head.

"Today's not going to be good, James. I can feel it already. I think I might just go up to the hospital wing now and skive off class."

James put down his toast. Remus was going to miss class...It had to be serious.

"I'll take notes for you in Binn's," he offered, patting Remus on the back, "and Sirius and I'll be down soon as we can after supper."

Remus nodded once and rose from his seat.

"After dinner, then."

James watched him plod slowly out the doors. Meeting Remus at the shack where he hid every month never seemed like enough, even though he and Sirius had already risked not only expulsion from Hogwarts but also an inquiry with the Ministry. Seems the government was pretty set against letting unregistered Animagi roam around the country. But...Sirius had convinced him it was the only way they were able to be with Remus every time the full moon rolled round. Even so, James wasn't sure that even he, a Marauder, would be willing to chance another encounter with the wrong side of the law.

A growl that sounded remarkably like a feral dog sounded from near his left elbow a moment later, startling him from his thoughts. James looked up as Sirius flopped on the bench opposite him.

"Saw Remus in the hall," he grunted, shoving the remainder of James' uneaten toast in his mouth. "'E looked a bi' unner th'weather."

"He said he was going to see Madam Pomfrey. He didn't want to wait 'til the end of lessons."

Sirius whistled as he lunged for another piece of toast.

"That bad, then?"

James nodded.

"Poor bloke. Wish there was more we could do to help."

James shrugged a shoulder.

"Me too, Padfoot. Me too."

It wasn't until the wee hours of the morning that three exhausted, battered boys made their way back up the school grounds toward the castle, two of them safely encased by James' invisibility cloak. None of them spoke; none of them had the energy. James had to resist the urge to wrap an arm around Remus' shoulders to keep him on his feet—the poor boy looked ready to collapse.

They slipped silently, cautiously, back into the entrance hall, waiting with baited breath for Peeves to pop up and announce their entrance, but there was nothing. They tiptoed across the floor, not willing to take any chances, either with Peeves or with Filch, and it wasn't until they were almost to the staircase that they heard it.

A strangled cry, followed by a growled curse. Beneath the cloak, James and Sirius both turned to look back at the doors to the Great Hall. One of them stood open, spilling a shaft of moonlight into the entrance hall.

"You go on upstairs, Remus," Sirius whispered after a moment's pause. "We'll see what that was."

Remus nodded and turned away. They watched him go until they were both sure he could make it on his own, and then traded looks. Sirius nodded. As one, they turned and trod carefully back across the cool stone floor and peered cautiously round the open door. For a moment nothing moved, and then James spotted a form seated at the Gryffindor table, half hidden in the shadows. It looked...it looked like...but no, it _couldn't_ be...Another curse, a fist slammed on the table, and a mass of shimmering red hair swung into view.

"Lily?" James whispered.

For a moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, and then Sirius prodded him rudely in the back with a finger.

"Go, Prongs."

Without waiting for his brain to catch up with his body, James slipped out from beneath the cloak and took a step forward. His hand hovered above the door handle for a moment, and then he swung the door open further and slipped inside.

Lily's head whipped round when she heard his footsteps. He couldn't make out the expression on her face, half-hidden by both her hair and the shadows cast by the moon that hung in the enchanted ceiling.

"What do you want?"

Her words were laced with venom and James felt his insides grow cold. He'd never heard Lily talk to anyone like that, not even the Slytherins, not even on her worst day.

"I-I-I...Are you alright?"

Another step forward. He saw her entire body stiffen, though in response to his question or his proximity, James didn't know.

"What do you care?"

James' brain was frozen. The words that normally came so easily to him were gone, lost in the heat of the moment. It was a moment before he could respond.

"Lily, what's wrong?"

"**Sod off**, Potter."

She shifted positions on the bench, turned her back to him, intent on ignoring him as much as possible. James was flabbergasted; Lily was swearing.

Lily, his beautiful flower, spouting some of the most foul language he'd ever heard.

Lily never swore.

But James was a Marauder. And Marauders definitely did **not** give up that easily.

He sat down opposite her, the table between them, and crossed his arms over his chest.

She didn't look at him, wouldn't look at him, but he knew that she knew he was still there.

"What is it, Lily? What's going on?"

Her only response was her fist, slamming down on the table again. He heard her sharp hiss of pain all too well, and something inside him wrenched horribly with the noise. This wasn't her...this couldn't be her.

Lily never got mad at anything.

He waited silently.

"Damn it, Potter. Don't you ever listen?"

"I listen if I know there isn't someone who's hurting, much as they attempt to deny it, right in front of me."

"My hand is perfectly fine."

"I wasn't talking about your hand."

"Damn it, Potter. I'm fucking fine. Leave me alone."

That did it. He was around the table in a heartbeat, crouched down in front of her. He grabbed one of her slim, pale hands in both of his, holding it firmly so she couldn't pull away.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on."

She glared at him, and oh, how he could feel the icicles in her stare piercing him in a million places. She grabbed her hand back with a surprisingly strong yank and threw a folded newspaper in his face. He grabbed for it, taken aback, and she slipped off the bench, moved around him. He listened for footsteps as he unfolded the paper, but Lily didn't leave. She paused not three feet behind him and spat out, "Read it."

Even in the dim light provided by the enchanted ceiling, it wasn't hard to make out the headline at the top:

**Seven dead in Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley**

James didn't need to read the entire article—the only words he needed jumped up off the page at him: "_...among the victims identified are a Muggle couple, Tiberius and Susan Evans..._"

"Oh Lils," he whispered, dropping the paper. The noise it made echoed through the hall.

"It's tomorrow's copy," Lily whispered. "Professor Dumbledore called me into his office once he knew for sure it was my parents, gave me that..."

She let out a bitter laugh.

"What the hell do I need it for? They're dead. A newspaper can't change that."

Silence. And then, a harsh whisper...

"It's my bloody fault in the first place."

James was up off the bench before he realized he'd even moved. He stepped right in front of her, the only place he knew she wouldn't be able to ignore him, and wrapped his hands gently around her upper arms. He waited until her eyes wandered up to his before continuing, needing to know that she was listening, paying attention.

"Don't you _dare_ say that. Don't you dare blame yourself."

"It is my fault. I owled that I needed potions supplies...Mum offered to get them for me...My fault they were there, Potter. My fault. My bloody fault."

She jerked away again, eyes twin pools of blazing fire.

"My goddamn fault."

"Lily-"

"No, Potter. Nothing you say will ever change that."

"Lily, please, don't do this to yourself."

"Do what? Take the blame when it should be mine anyway?"

"Lily, stop! You're only making it worse-"

"No! You stop! Dammit, Potter, you can't change my mind."

"Lily! You'll drive yourself crazy over this. You have to stop!"

"No! I deserve this! It's_my fau__-_"

"**EVANS!**"

James' sudden, outraged roar startled them both into silence. Lily's face darkened, lips parted; he was certain she was going to strike out at him, like a jungle cat hunting its prey. He braced himself for another rampage. Instead she stared up at him. He saw those gorgeous eyes fill with tears, and then...

"James."

His heart skipped a beat when she whispered his name. She swallowed hard, several fugitive tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Please don't yell at me."

And then she dissolved into sobs.

He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, hold her gently, securely. He felt her hands grasp the front of his jumper, holding tightly to him, as though she were drowning, as the sobs shook her whole body. She was drowning and he'd be damned if he wasn't there to pull her back. He rested his cheek against her hair, breathing in the soft, sweet smell of her, feeling his own heart break as she cried. She didn't deserve this, not his Lily. He felt so helpless, wanted so badly to take away her pain. _She needs this,_ a small part of his brain whispered, _let her cry_.

So he did.

And the larger part of him reveled in how perfectly they fit together, how _right_ she felt, wrapped up there in his arms. He never wanted to let her go, wanted to keep her safe forever. He tightened his arms around her when she whimpered, felt a lump rising in his own throat.

It might have been days, weeks, later when Lily's tears finally abided, leaving her utterly exhausted. Somehow, some time, in the thick of it all, he'd ended up on the floor. Lily was curled tightly into a ball on his lap. Her face was buried in the side of his neck and her hands were still tangled deep in his jumper. He could feel her breathing, slow and even, and if he didn't know better, didn't know _her_ better, he'd have thought she was asleep.

After a long moment he tentatively broke the silence.

"Lily?"

Her entire body stiffened; her hands tightened, if possible, even more on his jumper. For a second he was afraid she'd jump up and leave, and they'd be back to where they started. Last names only, keep your nose out of my life, thank you and by-your-leave. No. He wouldn't let that happen.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she whispered finally.

He pressed a kiss to her hair, felt her relax.

"Don't worry about it, love."

"No…I've been dreadful to you. You don't deserve that."

"Lily, please don't apologize. You're upset, and I don't blame you the slightest bit."

"I always do that to you..."

He felt her suck in a deep breath and then suddenly she was gone from his lap, twisting round so she could look him full in the face.

"I've always been horrible to you, James. You've never done anything to even begin to excuse the way I've treated you."

Her eyes searched his; he wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she must have found it for she continued.

"If I would have had to pick someone to find me here, tonight, it would still be you."

Shock rippled through him when her face flushed; he could almost feel the heat radiating from her glowing cheeks. He could see more words tumbling around inside her head and suddenly, he was certain he didn't want to hear what she had to say. His mother always said that grief made people do things they wouldn't normally...He didn't want Lily saying something she'd regret...

"Lily, you don't have to do this-"

She placed a finger over his lips, followed it with a stern look, silencing him.

"Yes, I do. There's not a more perfect time."

She took a breath.

"James, I've liked you ever since first year. The only reason I always said no to you is because I knew just how easy you thought you had it with me. You were so...damn stubborn. And cocky. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand you.

"And I started to think that maybe, maybe you wouldn't change. But you did. And then I liked you even more."

She paused and looked away. When her gaze wandered back to his he saw her eyes were full of tears again. She blinked hard, trying to will them away even as several drops fell into her lap.

"And I almost bollixed it up. I got so used to telling you no that it never crossed my mind to tell you yes when I most wanted to. And I did want to.

"I'm sorry for everything I said to you, every insult, every nasty remark, everything."

"Lily-"

"I know you want to say it's not the right time for this, and I'm not thinking straight. But it is. And I am. They always said they wanted nothing but for me to be happy. And you make me happy, James. It hurts, oh, it definitely hurts, and I'll hurt for a long while, but it's not the end of the world. It can't be, because I want to spend a lot more time with you."

And then she kissed him.

It was gentle, and sweet, over almost as soon as it begun, more reassurance than passion. It was just what they both needed.

And at that moment, that one, glorious moment, James felt she was right. It wasn't the end of the world, it couldn't be, because he wanted to spend a lot more time with her, too.

The next morning neither of them hesitated before entering the Great Hall, hand in hand. The noise level increased tenfold when someone noticed them and pointed it out, rather loudly, to the rest of their table, but neither of them cared enough to hear it. When both Sirius and Remus stood to give Lily a tender, brotherly hug, James caught sight of Dumbledore over the top of Lily's messy hair. And when Dumbledore, the man that had been almost more than a second father to them both since their first day at Hogwarts, solemnly nodded his approval, it only served to strengthen James' resolve that it definitely wasn't the end of the world.

_Fin._


End file.
